


Of Monsters and Men

by misstriplem



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, F/M, Papa Arthur Morgan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 05:54:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21094487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misstriplem/pseuds/misstriplem
Summary: A one-shot in which Arthur Morgan assists his young daughter, Annie, after she has a nightmare.





	Of Monsters and Men

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: There's a brief implication of sex between Arthur and my OC, Clara. Rated Teen because I am overly cautious.

Winter was coming.

Arthur could feel it despite the fire burning steadily in the hearth. He leaned against the window, glass of whiskey cupped carefully in his hand, and looked out onto the distant, moonlit peaks of Ambarino.

He took a sip of whiskey and let the pleasant burn warm him through.

_Damn getting old_, he thought with a heavy sigh. Winter crept in so suddenly nowadays; it seemed always to seep into his bones with the intention of making them bend and creak like an ill-oiled machine. Some days it felt like the perpetual freeze of Colter had never really left him. But, then again, he _was_ pushing forty. He supposed he was lucky enough to be in mostly one piece, after all these years and all the goddamn chaos he’d been involved in—and created, on more than one occasion.

Arthur sipped and rubbed at his eyes. They’d need to do plenty of winter preparation in the coming weeks on the ranch. He’d hated the work, at first; he’d spent his entire life scamming, lying, killing, and then some and, though his perspective had certainly changed in the last months they’d been with the gang, it’d been much harder than he’d thought to alter his nature.

Clara always told him that they all deserved a second chance. Arthur didn’t believe it at first. But once Clara had gotten pregnant and they used their money to buy the ranch and hire their hands (all of whom had been in trouble with the law at some point), Arthur finally allowed himself to think that maybe she’d been right all along.

And in the moments of doubt that still persisted, all Arthur had to do was look at his daughter to know that everything would be alright.

Not even the promise of winter could change that.

The sound of soft shuffling caught his attention. Arthur turned, his body instinctually stiffening, and glanced toward the doorway that led to the hall.

A small form peered around the corner into the living room.

“Sweetheart,” Arthur breathed as he turned from the window. He paused just long enough to place his empty glass on the table before going to his daughter’s side. “What are you doing up?”

Annie Morgan faced her father, her brow knit with sorrow and her blue eyes filled with worry. Her arms tightly clutched the doll Hosea had brought for her after she was born.

“I had a bad dream,” she whispered.

Arthur bent before her, his heart straining in his chest. He done and seen more terrible things in his life than he cared to think about, but by far the worst was seeing Annie in distress.

He reached out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Did you, now?”

She nodded and buried her face in the doll’s hair.

“Dreams can’t you hurt you, sweetheart,” he said with a smile. “Ain’t nothing to be afraid of.”

Annie nodded and shuffled closer to him. Arthur opened his arms and pulled her in close. He closed his eyes and rubbed her back until her small form relaxed against his shoulder.

This—_this_ was all Arthur needed.

He pulled back and peered down at Annie. “You alright now?”

She looked up at him and nodded, albeit it a bit dubiously. Annie glanced over her shoulder toward her bedroom and looked shyly up at her father.

“Will you check my room for monsters?”

Arthur would have shifted the world on its axis if it meant that Annie would have a decent night’s sleep.

“Of course,” he agreed. Arthur scooped Annie into his arms. He didn’t bother fighting the smile that played on his lips as she tucked her head into the crook of his neck.

*

Arthur carefully closed the window and pulled the curtains shut.

“No monsters here, either,” he announced over his shoulder.

Annie sat up in bed, her doll still locked firmly in her grip. She followed Arthur thorough inspection with wide, apprehensive eyes. Her gaze softened with comfort at the pronouncement that the inside as well as the outside was thoroughly and unequivocally devoid of monsters.

He tucked Annie beneath the patchwork quilt. The quilt was Abigail’s handiwork, a gift for Annie on her first birthday. The girl laid her head on the pillow and nestled the doll beside her.

“All better?”

Annie nodded, her eyes growing heavy with sleep. “Thank you, daddy.”

Arthur bent and placed a kiss on her head. “You’re welcome, baby.”

After one more check that the girl was safely tucked in her bed, Arthur rose and crossed the room to the door.

“Daddy?”

He turned. “Yeah?”

The words were a bit muffled by the quilt and sleep. “I love you.”

Arthur never thought himself deserving of those words. There were still moments when Clara would utter them and he’d glanced over his shoulder to see who she was talking to. But whenever Annie said them…

Well, Arthur thought maybe—just maybe—he could be deserving of them, after all.

“Love you, too,” he murmured as he slipped through the door.

Arthur had been a monster once. Now he was nothing more than a man and, for the first time in a long time, he was entirely content with that fact.

*

Arthur tried not to disturb Clara as he crawled into bed.

She rolled over and blinked up at him. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head and settled beside her. “Annie had a bad dream.”

Clara nestled beside him and draped an arm over his broad chest. Arthur pulled her close and laid his cheek atop her head.

“Did you have to look for monsters again?”

He chuckled and nodded. “Yep. Outside the window this time, though.”

Clara sighed knowingly. “I told you to cut that branch down months ago. She can see the shadow of it in her room.”

“Well, I don’t see _you_ in a rush to go cut it down, woman,” he countered with a smirk.

She lifted her head and glowered playfully at him. “I know why you haven’t cut it down.” Clara prodded him a few times in the chest. “You want everything to be Daddy to the rescue.”

Arthur shrugged. “What’s wrong with that?”

Clara rose up onto her elbow. “And where does that leave me?”

Arthur rubbed her arm as a grin played on his lips. “You make a decent cup of coffee. That’s something.”

He huffed a laugh as she shoved him.

Clara cut off his laughter with a swift kiss. She let it linger until Arthur’s hands slid down her sides to land firmly at the tops of her hips.

His eyes smoldered in the darkness when she pulled away. “You fixing to get yourself into trouble, mama?”

Her hand wandered down the length of his union suit and stopped at the buttons near his abdomen. Clara popped open one button then the other.

She whispered beside his ear, “Only a little, daddy.”

*

Arthur took a healthy bite of his biscuit and sighed in contentment.

Clara sipped her coffee as her eyes roved over her newest book. These were the last few moments of relative peace and quiet before the ranch demanded every minute of their attention.

That, and the wild little girl who came running swiftly down the hall and into the kitchen.

Annie came to an abrupt stop beside her mother. Clara put the coffee down and hoisted the girl into her arms and offered her one of the freshly baked biscuits laying on the checkered cloth in the center of the table.

“I heard you had a bad dream last night,” Clara asked as she smoothed the sleep-tumbled hair out of Annie’s face.

The girl nodded around a mouthful of sweetened bread. She smiled up at her father and said, “Daddy checked for monsters and there weren’t any.”

Clara flashed Arthur a smirk. Arthur turned away as his cheeks reddened a bit. He’d checked for monsters with her, too.

But that was a bit different.

Annie chewed for a moment in thoughtful silence. Then she turned her face up to Clara and asked, “Did you have a bad dream, too, Mama?”

Arthur froze midchew.

Clara’s eyes flicked to Arthur before turning back to Annie.

“No,” she answered with a bit of hesitation. “Why do you ask, honey?”

Annie shrugged and took another bite of biscuit. “It sounded like you were having a nightmare,” she said around her mouthful. “But then Daddy must’ve helped you, like he did for me.”

Arthur’s mouth dropped open in horror.

Clara’s eyes widened in shock.

Annie looked between them, her brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Oh, nothing, sweetheart,” Clara explained quickly. “You’re right—I was having a nightmare and Daddy chased away the monsters.” She cut a hard glance to him and added, “Right, Arthur?”

Arthur didn’t think he could speak.

Annie had heard them.

Oh, dear God, he didn’t think he could look at her anymore.

Clara cleared her throat sharply and raised an eyebrow at him.

Arthur swallowed his embarrassment and nodded. “Sure did.”

Annie popped the last bit of biscuit in her mouth. She settled against Clara, who wrapped her arms around the girl’s tiny form.

The girl twisted around and looked up at her mother, her expression serious. “I think Daddy needs another biscuit.”


End file.
